


The Ghost and the Mirror

by misura



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Marissa feels like she's running out of time. Ezekiel offers comfort and reassurance.





	The Ghost and the Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raininshadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raininshadows/gifts).



Marissa scowled at her reflection in the mirror. "I look like a Hag!"

_**"To my sight, you grow more radiant each day."** _

"Much good that does me, when people mistake my daughter for me!" Marissa forced herself to calm down. Knowledge was power, and power had its price. She had always known this, from the moment she had first met Ezekiel.

He had been her faithful childhood companion, ever patient, ever kind. Her not at all imaginary friend, though her parents had thought different, her other friends making fun of what they thought was nothing more than a childish fancy, something they considered themselves too old to take seriously.

They had learned better, in the end. That had been very satisfying, to hear their jeering turned to screams at last, to feel powerful and special, because _she_ was the one Ezekiel had chosen to befriend and talk to and share all his secrets with.

_**"Only a fool would ever mistake Margaret for you. And what matter the opinion of those so lacking all intelligence and understanding? You have the ear of many important people. You head the organization that keeps them safe."** _

"Not safe enough." So many agents died. It was for the best, of course; children became adults, and the Agency had only a very limited use for adults. "And Tom still looks his age."

 _ **"Tom is not you."**_ Ezekiel sounded reasonable, calm. Not once had he hinted at any jealousy when she had begun to spend as much time with Tom as she had.

He had never asked about Margaret's father, only commented on the likeliness of the child inheriting Marissa's gifts, Marissa's abilities.

Marissa had been guiltily relieved when Margaret had turned out to lack any and all talent. It meant Ezekiel wouldn't leave her, that she wouldn't be forced to choose between passing on the bracelet that was his source or letting him go back to being alone, unheard.

Of course, that relief had soon turned to disappointment. Margaret should have at least shown _some_ ability, surely, some sign that she was her mother's daughter.

"Sweet, innocent Tom." Marissa sighed. She might have stuck with Tom, she thought. If it hadn't been for Ezekiel, for knowing there were bigger and better things to pursue, she might have considered herself quite content with Tom. "I do believe he fancies himself my competition."

_**"Plenty of work to go around. No reason why others shouldn't do their fair share."** _

"I suppose." Marissa sighed again. She felt cold, even though the fire in the hearth was crackling merrily.

_**"You have more important things to occupy your time."** _

"And how much time do you think I have left?" She was shocked to hear her own voice. She sounded almost pitiful. Weak and sad and tired, like the wrinkled, old lady staring back at her from the mirror, instead of the still young and powerful woman she felt like when walking the Other Side. "How much time, Ezekiel? Look at me!"

_**"I see only your beauty. Your power. Your wisdom."** _

Marissa swallowed her first, angry reply, which was that whenever she caught sight of herself in the normal world, she saw death. As a child, the idea of dying had held little fear. Ezekiel was dead, too, after all. Once Marissa died, they would be together always, as equals.

Now, as an adult, she knew better.

"I need more time." Her mouth was dry. When she ate, even the most expensive and delicious food tasted of nothing at all. The other day, when some documents had required her signature, she had barely been able to keep the pen steady.

People would be very understanding, of course, when they found out how weak she'd gotten. After all that she had done for them, they ought to. Margaret might even forgive her for the harsh words that Marissa had spoken to her. Penelope would be instructed not to tire out 'Grandma'.

Undoubtedly, they would give her a splendid funeral.

"Ezekiel. Please. If you - " He did love her. Marissa had never allowed herself to doubt this. Other, lesser spirits would lie and cheat and trick, but Ezekiel was as far removed from such creatures as Marissa herself was from the ordinary citizens of London, going about their ordinary lives.

 _ **"Whatever you need, I will give you. Have I not always done so?"**_ Ezekiel sounded a tiny bit hurt. _**"If ever I gave you cause to doubt me, I apologize most sincerely. It was never my intention to cause you unnecessary worry."**_

"There is a way, then."

 _ **"Of course. For those with the will to succeed, there is always a way. So it has always been, so it will always be. A woman with a will as strong as yours need fear nothing and nobody, death included."**_ Ezekiel hesitated.

Marissa smiled at him. Ezekiel had changed little from when she had first heard and seen him. Marissa knew that she herself _had_ changed. Things that would have scared or disgusted her once now had been faced and discovered to be not so frightening or disgusting after all.

You simply needed to know your own goals, to keep your eye on the prize. To be willing to do what needed doing.

"Tell me," she said.

 _ **"You may not like it,"**_ Ezekiel warned. _**"If you wait a little while, we may find another way. I am saying this to you, because I know that once I tell you, you will act. Then, should your research discover a different method, it will be too late. You might have regrets, then."**_

"My only regret is that I didn't smack dear Tom over the head with a shovel before he could become the thorn in my side he is today."

_**"You give him too much credit. He's more like a flea in your pelt."** _

Marissa chuckled. "Fine. Have it your way. But if I die before you can tell me, I'll come back and haunt you, see if I won't."

_**"It would be my pleasure."** _

"A ghost haunting another ghost." Marissa shook her head. "What a pair we would make."

_**"Beyond compare."** _

"Well, we're not there just yet. For now, I'm an old woman in need of a nap, and you - "

_**" - your guardian angel to keep watch while you do so. Sleep well, Marissa."** _

"Penelope will be visiting tomorrow. Did I tell you? Such a bright, young thing. Nothing at all like her mother."

_**"You are quite fond of her, aren't you?"** _

Marissa frowned, trying to decipher Ezekiel's tone. "It's too early to tell with any certainty, but I feel like she will live to do great things. Not quite as great as her famous grandmother, naturally. Still, I have hopes that she'll prove worthy of the Fittes name."

_**"One way or another, I am sure that she will do so."** _


End file.
